Harry Potter And The Gimlore
by J. B. Tilton
Summary: When Hermione is abducted right off the grounds of Hogwarts by a strange creature, Harry learns a dark secret about Hogwarts. A secret that could cost him his life if he is to save Hermione.


HARRY POTTER  
  
"Harry Potter And The Gimlore"  
  
by J. B. Tilton (a.k.a. Centexmale) and Tracie Joy (a.k.a. Majiklmoon)  
  
email: aramath@isot.com majiklmoon@aol.com  
  
Rating: G  
  
* * *  
  
Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and all related characters and events are the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers except for those characters specifically created for this story. This is a work of fan fiction and no infringement of copyright is intended.  
  
* * *  
  
When Hermione is abducted right off the grounds of Hogwarts by a strange creature, Harry learns a dark secret about Hogwarts. A secret that could cost him his life if he is to save Hermione.  
  
* * *  
  
ONE  
  
Harry came to a skidding stop just outside the classroom. The door was open ajar and he peered inside. All the desks were filled. All save one. The desk where he normally sat was conspicuously empty. The professor stood with his back to the door writing something on the blackboard.  
  
As quietly as he could, Harry slipped inside the room. He moved quickly to his desk. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, his best friends, smiled at him. He glanced over at Draco Malfoy, who simply sneered. Confident he had been able to get inside without being noticed, Harry began to take his seat.  
  
"How nice of you to take time out from your busy day to join us, Mr. Potter," said the teacher without turning around.  
  
Harry froze. He watched as the professor turned to face him. There was a stern look on the mans face. The professor placed his hands behind him and stared at Harry.  
  
"Yes, sir," Harry said, as all the students looked on. "I'm sorry I'm late, sir. I forgot my book and had to go back for it."  
  
The teacher stood just over six feet tall and even in the six years Harry had grown during his tenure at Hogwarts, the man seemed to tower over him. Unlike many of the professors at the school, this one was clean-shaven. His black hair, peppered with spots of grey throughout, gave him an air of distinction. The stern look in his green eyes gave him an air of authority. Being the object of the mans immediate attention made Harry decidedly uncomfortable.  
  
"I do hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience to you," the professor said. "I realize a young man such as yourself has many things occupying his mind. I hope the inconvenience of having to attend class day after day isn't too much of a burden for you."  
  
"N.... no, sir," stammered Harry. "I'm very sorry, sir."  
  
"Well, at least you seemed to have learned some manners," replied the professor. "Have a seat, Mr. Potter. I was just about to begin."  
  
Harry took his seat thankful that the ordeal was over. The professor was dressed much like any of the other teachers Harry had. But there was something different about this one. Each year they had a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. And each year Harry, as well as all the students, had to get used to the new teacher. But this one seemed different from any of the teachers Harry had learned under at Hogwarts.  
  
"My name," said the professor, "is Lucien Carrington. As you have no doubt already noticed by my speech, I'm an American. I'm a graduate of the Salem Witches Institute in Salem, Massachusetts. I am going to be your teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts this year.  
  
"I will tell you right now that I am a very demanding teacher. Everything you learn here at Hogwarts will be of benefit to you. Professor McGonagall will teach you a great deal about Transfigurations. Professor Sprout, no doubt, has much to show you regarding Herbology. Professor Flitwick can show you great things about Charms. There is no one more suited to show you how to care for magical creatures than Hargrid. Each of these teachers, as well as the rest, will all teach you things you are going to need in whatever field you choose to pursue.  
  
"But the Defense Against the Dark Arts is of particular importance. What I will teach you in the coming year may well save your life one day. Or the life of a friend or loved one. I demand, and will accept nothing less, than your absolute best in this class. Which includes," he looked directly at Harry for a moment, "that you be punctual."  
  
Malfoy just snickered at the comment.  
  
"Which also includes, Mr. Malfoy," Carrington said, turning his attention to Harry's rival, "that you pay particular attention to everything I say and do and not be concerned with what may be going on with another student."  
  
"Yes, sir," responded Malfoy.  
  
"Many of you will be graduating soon," Carrington continued. "But don't think that you will stop learning there. You will continue to learn your entire lives. Most of the lessons you will learn beyond these halls will not afford a second chance to learn them. You will learn that I do not, either.  
  
"I expect all lessons to be turned in on time and complete. All reading assignments will be completed prior to coming to class. I do not grant extensions. I rarely give second chances. And I detest excuses. Tell me that you overslept and I'll simply tell you to go to bed earlier. Offer the excuse that you have so many assignments in your other classes and I'll respond with, 'welcome to the real world'. These are excuses. They are simply ways to rationalize what amounts to nothing more than laziness.  
  
"Now, tell me that you spent the entire night fighting a Dementor and barely escaped with your life and your first thought was to come to class and I might," he emphasized the word might, "think about it. You rarely get a second chance in life. And almost never when faced with the dark arts. That is part of what I am here to teach you.  
  
"I will give you the rest of the class to prepare yourselves for what lies ahead. Beginning tomorrow, we will start in earnest learning about the dark arts and ways to defend against them. Before you go I will say this. None of you has to earn my respect. Being at this academy, you already have that. Heaven help the student who should loose that respect. You are dismissed for the day."  
  
The students began to file out of the room. Just before Harry left, Carrington called to him.  
  
"Mr. Potter, would you be so kind as to remain a minute, please?"  
  
Harry glanced at Hermione and Ron and then turned back into the classroom.  
  
"Mr. Potter," Carrington said, "I'm told you are a very promising student. Your tardiness today is not a very good example of that promise."  
  
"Yes, sir," Harry said. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."  
  
"See that it doesn't," Carrington said. "However, for future reference, I usually have an extra copy or two of the textbook on hand. Should you find yourself in a similar situation in the future, don't waste time returning to your dormitory. You may borrow one of mine for the class."  
  
"Yes, sir," Harry said. "I'll remember that."  
  
"Preparation, Mr. Potter," Carrington said, "that is the key. Not only in this class, but in most endeavors in life. I may seem particularly unbending in many things. But you will find that this is the norm and not the exception. Fail to learn the name of a constellation in Professor Sinestras' astronomy class, and you will feel embarrassed. Fail to learn something I have to teach you, and it could well be fatal. Not only to you but to those around you."  
  
"Yes, sir," Harry said. "I'll keep that in mind."  
  
"Very well," Carrington said. "The matter is closed. We all make mistakes. The important thing is that we learn from those mistakes. So that we don't repeat them in the future."  
  
"Thank you, professor," Harry said.  
  
"You're dismissed, Mr. Potter," Carrington said.  
  
As Harry left the classroom, Professor Carrington simply watched. Ron and Hermione joined Harry outside the room and they moved on down the hallway.  
  
TWO  
  
Harry's first week under Professor Carrington tutelage was hectic. He had managed to make it to class on time but the teacher was as strict as he has said. On one occasion Harry had forgotten to bring his assignment to class with him. Carrington had failed him for the day. Harry's protests that the assignment was done didn't seem to sway the professor. He only stated that it was not complete until it was handed in.  
  
He did seem to be unusually harsh on Hermione, however. In fact, all of the Muggle borns were subject to even stricter standards than the other students. He seemed to have less patience with them than the rest of the students.  
  
"Probably doesn't like Muggle borns," Ron said at dinner one night. "There are some teachers like that, you know."  
  
"Obviously a pureblood," Malfoy commented, passing by the table where Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat. "One can always tell. You're lucky we tolerate you at all."  
  
"Malfoy," Hargrid's voice boomed in the boy's ear, "I suggest you find your place quickly. You know how the Headmaster hates dawdlers."  
  
Not having seen the giant animal tender behind him, Malfoy hurried on to his own table.  
  
"Hargrid," Harry said, "what do you know about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"  
  
"Not much, I'm afraid," Hargrid said, looking up at the Headmasters table where the teachers were enjoying their meal. "Mostly rumors and such. He came here at the personal request of Professor Dumbledore, as I understand it. But there's not much that's known about him."  
  
"Malfoy's probably right," Hermione said dejectedly. "He's probably a pureblood. That's why he's so hard on us Muggle borns."  
  
"Here now," Hargrid said, "let's have no more talk like that. It doesn't matter who your parents are. It's what's in here that matters."  
  
Hargrid pointed to his chest with his thumb.  
  
"Don't let anyone tell you differently," Hargrid continued. "Pureblood or Muggle born makes no difference. You all have good hearts. That's what's most important."  
  
"Still, I'll be glad when this year is over," Ron said. "I've never worked so hard on my assignments in my life. It's almost like he's out to fail all of you or something. Maybe he even wants you to get kicked out of Hogwarts. If he is a pureblood, he may want nothing but purebloods at the school."  
  
"There now, mind your words," Hargrid said. "He is still one of your teachers. Whether you like him or not, you still need to show him some respect."  
  
"We didn't mean any disrespect, Hargrid," Harry said. "Just wondering about him that's all."  
  
"That's all fine and good," Hargrid said. "Just see that you show him the respect he's due. Now, be about your meal. I'll talk to you later."  
  
"I've heard rumors about Professor Carrington," Hermione said. "Genevieve has an American cousin who goes to the Salem Witches Institute. She told me her cousin said that he got into some trouble when he was younger. And it caused the death of another student. That's why he went into the study of the dark arts."  
  
"I heard he actually faced a Dementor," Ron said. "And lived to tell about it."  
  
Harry was barely listening to his two friends. He was watching their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Carrington was talking with Professor Snape. And the two seemed to be getting along famously.  
  
"Great," Harry groaned.  
  
Professor Snape's dislike of Harry was well known in the school. To see him and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor getting along so well made Harry's heart sink. No doubt Professor Snape was telling Professor Carrington what a poor student, and person, Harry was. Any hopes Harry had that he might get a break were quickly dashed as the two teachers laughed at some private joke together.  
  
Professor Carrington suddenly looked over at Harry. He stared at Harry for a moment, and then went back to his conversation with Snape. Harry immediately became very interested in his own meal. That clinched it. Harry thought about the things Snape must have been telling Carrington. It was, he decided, going to be a very long year.  
  
* * *  
  
"Harry, Ron," Hermione called from down the hallway.  
  
School was finally out for the day. They were all looking forward to just relaxing for the evening. Even though they had a major report due in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class the next day, they would be finished with them very soon. Now it was time to simply enjoy themselves.  
  
Professor Carrington hadn't seemed to treat Harry any differently after the dinner a week before. Perhaps he hadn't put any stock in what Snape had said. At any rate, Harry was glad he wasn't being any harder on him, although he did wish things in the class could be just a bit easier.  
  
As Hermione ran down the hallway to reach Harry and Ron, another student suddenly stuck his foot out, tripping the young girl. She fell clamoring to the floor, her books and parchments scattering everywhere. She turned and looked up at Malfoy who stared down at her smiling. Crabbe and Goyle, as always, were close at hand.  
  
"My, my, how clumsy of you," Malfoy said, a smirk on his face. "You really should be more careful, you know."  
  
"You did that deliberately," Harry said, rushing up to help Hermione.  
  
"It was an accident," Malfoy said innocently. "She just wasn't watching where she was going. That's not my fault."  
  
"Why, you," Harry said. "I ought to...."  
  
The thought went unfinished as Ron helped Hermione to her feet. Harry wasn't sure exactly what to say. Fighting amongst the students was strictly forbidden. But Malfoy seemed to go out of his way to provoke an incident with Harry and his friends at every opportunity.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter," said a voice to their left.  
  
They all looked to see Professor Carrington standing just a few feet from them, his hands folded behind him.  
  
"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" Carrington asked.  
  
"No, sir," replied Malfoy. "Just a clumsy Muggle born, that's all."  
  
"No, sir, no problem," Harry said, knowing how the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor must feel about Muggle borns.  
  
"I seriously doubt, Mr. Malfoy," Carrington said turning to the Harry's antagonist, "that your father would approve of such childish antics. Nor would I imagine, Mr. Potter, that your family would look favorably on your quickness to jump to physical violence to solve your problems. You're supposed to be young gentlemen. I suggest you comport yourselves as such."  
  
"Yes, professor," Harry and Malfoy said in unison.  
  
"Thank you," Hermione said to Carrington after Malfoy and his friends had moved on.  
  
"Don't thank me, Miss Granger," said Carrington. "You shouldn't have been running in the hallways. As you found out, the results can be unpleasant."  
  
"Yes, sir," Hermione said.  
  
"I trust you all have your assignments ready for class tomorrow," Carrington said suddenly.  
  
"We will," Harry said. "They're nearly finished now. We'll have them done in plenty of time for class."  
  
"See that you do," Carrington replied. "Now, I must see the Headmaster about a matter. Please, be more careful in the hallways. And I shall see you young people in class tomorrow."  
  
"Now that's just perfect," Hermione said as Carrington walked away to the Headmaster who was standing just down the hall. "Malfoy trips me and we get the lecture. I guess there are some who believe that a pureblood can't do any wrong."  
  
"Yeah," Ron said, "another pureblood. Come on. Let's get out of here for a while. I just want to relax before I get back to my report."  
  
"Good idea," Harry said.  
  
The three friends headed for the dormitory to change clothes. Dumbledore and Carrington watched as they headed away.  
  
"You're right, Headmaster," Carrington said. "Young Mr. Potter has a lot of potential. Has he decided on his occupation yet?"  
  
"Not that I'm aware of," Dumbledore said.  
  
"He has an interesting choice in friends, too," Carrington said. "Miss Granger in particular. I don't suppose it's so odd that they should become friends. Especially since Mr. Malfoy seems to dislike them both."  
  
"Miss Granger is a Muggle born, of course," the Headmaster replied. "It's not much wonder that Mr. Malfoy should have such contempt for her. His father is much the same way."  
  
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Carrington quoted an old proverb. "Still, you know my feelings on Muggle born."  
  
"Indeed I do, my old friend," the Headmaster said, patting Carrington on the back. "Indeed I do."  
  
Together, the two teachers turned and headed for the quarters where the teachers stayed.  
  
THREE  
  
Harry and Ron were walking through the halls of Hogwarts and passed the library. Hermione was just coming out of the library, her books and parchments in hand as usual. Harry and Ron were wearing their quidditch uniforms.  
  
"Practicing again I see," Hermione said, smiling at her two friends.  
  
"And you're in the library as usual," Harry replied. "You're coming to the next quidditch match, aren't you?"  
  
"Wouldn't miss it," Hermione said.  
  
"You have your assignment done?" Ron asked.  
  
"Just about," Hermione said. "I had to do some extra research but I have everything I need to finish it. I hope Professor Carrington likes it. I've worked very hard on it."  
  
"You always work hard on your assignments," Harry said. "If you aren't in class you're studying. I'm sure he'll like if fine."  
  
"I hope so," Hermione said. "I'm going to show him that a Muggle born is just as good as any pureblood."  
  
"Hey, not all purebloods feel that way, Hermione," said Ron. "Some of us don't look on you any differently from anyone else."  
  
"I didn't mean you, Ron," Hermione said. "It was meant more for Malfoy and his kind. Those superior snobs who think they're better than us just because we aren't purebloods."  
  
"Maybe that will change in the future," Harry offered. "Things do change, you know."  
  
"I know," said Hermione just a bit dejected. "I just wish that...."  
  
All three students turned as a strange creature suddenly stepped out of the shadows. The creature towered over the three as if they were small children. It was nearly seven feet tall and a uniform gray all over. It had no arms but instead two tentacle-like appendages hung from each side of its body. Its head was vaguely human-like and appeared to be a cross between a human and a bat.  
  
Its body was scaly like that of a serpent. Its eyes glowed a dull red in the shadows of the hallway like two embers of a dying fire. There was no nose and its mouth was filled with row upon row of jagged, razor-sharp teeth.  
  
Before any of the three could move, two of the creatures' tentacles swung out knocking Harry and Ron backward down the hall. At the same instant the remaining two tentacles reached out and wrapped themselves around Hermione. The creature pulled the young girl to it as Harry and Ron got to their feet and turned to face the creature.  
  
"Potter," the creature hissed. "Dosha soca cineddi Pelag nashi torin boc hoolmo soca ."  
  
As the two boys watched in horror, the creature moved down the hall with unbelievable speed taking Hermione with it. Her books and parchments lay scattered about the hallway, but Harry and Ron were not even concerned with those. Some creature neither had ever heard of had taken their friend. And neither had any idea what it had just said.  
  
"What are we going to do?" Ron cried to Harry.  
  
"Hagrid," Harry said. "I'll bet he'll know what that thing was. He might even know what it said. Come on. I know it's late but he won't mind if we barge in. You know how much he likes Hermione."  
  
Together the two friends turned and ran for the animal tenders' quarters. They would have to cross nearly the entire grounds to get there and they weren't wasting any time. As they turned the corner at one of the hallway intersections, they collided head on with Professor Carrington.  
  
"Gentlemen," said Carrington angrily as he collected himself and rose to face the two students, "I do hope you have a good reason for rushing through the halls this time of night. You should both be in your rooms preparing for class tomorrow."  
  
"Professor Carrington," Harry said, standing to his feet. "Professor, Hermione has been taken. Some creature just appeared in the hallway and took her. We were just on our way to Hargrid to see if he could help us."  
  
"A creature, Mr. Potter?" Carrington questioned some skepticism in his voice. "Really, Mr. Potter, I would think you could fabricate a better story than that. If this is a joke, I do not find it the least bit amusing."  
  
"It's true, Professor," Ron said. "It was seven feet tall and all gray. It had tentacles instead of arms. It took Hermione right before our eyes."  
  
"Mr. Weasley," Carrington said, "considering your grades, I would think you would be more interested in being in your room studying than running about the hallways spreading unfounded rumors about some mythical creature. I don't know what you two think you're doing but I can assure you that...."  
  
"Professor, please," Harry pleaded, "we aren't making this up. It's true. We were on our way to our rooms when it just appeared in the hallway. It took Hermione and then vanished. She's in danger, Professor. We have to help her."  
  
Carrington eyed the two boys suspiciously. Young boys were prone to practical jokes, even the students at an academy such as Hogwarts. It was their nature. But something in their tones made the professor think that maybe this was no practical joke.  
  
"Very well, Mr. Potter," Carrington said finally. "Describe this creature to me."  
  
Harry gave the professor the description of the creature. Carrington listened patiently a look on his face that seemed to indicate he was not totally convinced.  
  
"And it simply took Miss Granger and vanished?" questioned Carrington.  
  
"Yes, sir," Harry said. "We both saw it."  
  
"For no reason at all?" asked the Professor.  
  
"We don't know," Ron said. "We didn't understand what it said to us."  
  
"It spoke to you?" Carrington questioned.  
  
"Yes, sir," Harry said. "It spoke some strange language we didn't understand."  
  
"It called Harry by name," interjected Ron.  
  
"So this creature seemed to know who you were but didn't speak to you in English?" Carrington questioned. "That is rather odd, don't you think?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry said, his patience beginning to run thin. "Maybe it thought I spoke that language. Or maybe it doesn't speak English. I just don't know, Professor. All I know is that Hermione is in danger. We have to rescue her."  
  
"Just what did this creature say to you?" Carrington asked.  
  
"Like we said," Ron said, "we didn't understand it. It was some strange language."  
  
"Why don't you try to remember what it said?" suggested Carrington/  
  
"Well," Harry said, thinking. "It was something like 'Dosa sock sined Pelag nash torn box hoolmo sock. Something like that."  
  
Professor Carrington's expression had changed. He was now studying the boys intently. A look of concern filled his face. Concern or perhaps fear. The two boys stared at him wondering what would happen next.  
  
"Dosha soca cineddi Pelag nashi torin boc hoolmo soca," Carrington finally said, his accent of the words nearly identical to that of the creature.  
  
"Yes, that's it," Harry said. "That's what the creature said."  
  
"Are you sure?" Carrington questioned suddenly extremely seriously. "Are you absolutely sure that's what the creature said?"  
  
"Pretty sure," Ron said. "Like we said, we didn't understand it. But that sounds like what it said."  
  
"Come with me," Carrington said turning. "We must speak to the Headmaster immediately. Your friend is in a great deal of trouble. There is little time to waste."  
  
Suddenly very fearful, Harry and Ron followed Carrington to the Headmasters' quarters wondering what it was the creature had said.  
  
FOUR  
  
"Professor Carrington, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said when he answered his door, "what brings you out at this late hour?"  
  
"Headmaster," Carrington said, "we must speak with you. It is important or I wouldn't disturb you at this hour."  
  
"Come in," Dumbledore said.  
  
Unlike many of the teachers at Hogwarts, Dumbledore seemed to have more tolerance of the students and their antics. It probably had to do with the fact that he didn't have to deal with them in class day after day. Plus, they were with a teacher. That would have given them a bit more authority than simply coming alone. And where Harry was concerned, Dumbledore had always been very open with him, even more than tolerant. They had a special bond that none of the other students had.  
  
"Now, what seems to be the problem?" Dumbledore asked after they had all been seated.  
  
"It seems," said Carrington, "that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley have encountered a creature in the halls. As incredible as it sounds, I believe they may have, indeed, encountered this creature. Mr. Potter, please tell the headmaster what you told me."  
  
As patiently as he could, Harry recounted what he and Ron had told Carrington only a few moments before. Dumbledore sat quietly listening to the entire tale. The look on his face didn't betray his feelings or what he was thinking. When Harry finished, with sporadic comments interjected by Ron, he didn't speak immediately.  
  
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said finally, "I can assure you that the creature you have described could not possibly be on the grounds. I do not doubt that you obviously saw something. Perhaps you read the description somewhere and this influenced what you saw. The shadows on the grounds especially at night can cause one to see many things."  
  
"No, Professor," pleaded Harry, "we didn't imagine it. It took Hermione. She's in terrible danger. Professor Carrington said so."  
  
"I, too, thought they might have imagined it," Carrington said. "Except they said it spoke to them. Apparently it said 'Dosha soca cineddi Pelag nashi torin boc hoolmo soca'. It is an ancient dialect that isn't spoken any more. I studied it when I was a student at Salem. I believe what they have said, Professor."  
  
"You understand what this creature said?" Dumbledore asked Carrington.  
  
"Yes, Headmaster, I do," Carrington said. "Roughly translated, it means 'arrive by midnight or the girl will die'. And according to Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, it called Mr. Potter by name. I believe it was speaking directly to him when it spoke."  
  
"This is most disconcerting," Dumbledore said. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, the creature you saw is called a Gimlore. It is one of the reasons the woods are forbidden to students. In the very back of the woods is a portion that is forbidden even to the teachers. The Gimlore has been imprisoned in that portion of the woods for a very long time. I have never known it to leave the woods."  
  
"Imprisoned?" questioned Harry. "I don't understand."  
  
"It is a very ancient creature, Mr. Potter," Carrington said. "Many hundreds of years ago, it was forced into that section of woods and powerful magic was used to imprison it there. The enchantments were supposed to prevent it from ever leaving that portion of the woods. So you can see why we find it incredulous that you encountered it on the grounds."  
  
"But we did," insisted Ron. "Honestly, we didn't make this up. We did encounter it and it took Hermione."  
  
"We are not disputing that, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said. "Your description of the creature, and the language it spoke to you, has convinced us that it happened. It is most disconcerting that it should be on the grounds."  
  
"And that it should seek out a student," Carrington said. "I would suggest, Headmaster, that it came here specifically for Mr. Potter. The area where they encountered it is deep inside the grounds. Were it after just any student, it would not have had to go far to encounter one."  
  
"I agree," Dumbledore said. "It also called Mr. Potter by name. That would also indicate that it was in search of him specifically."  
  
"Why?" Harry asked. "And why take Hermione? If it wanted me, why not just take me instead?"  
  
"There is much about the Gimlore we do not know," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps it needs you in its prison for a reason. At any rate, I would surmise that Miss Granger is in no immediate danger. As long as Mr. Potter arrives by midnight, I believe the Gimlore will not harm her."  
  
"You're going to let me go?" Harry asked.  
  
"A students life is at stake," Carrington said. "We simply cannot ignore the weight of that. Considering the circumstances, Headmaster, perhaps I should accompany Mr. Potter."  
  
"You were not invited," Dumbledore said. "Besides, Mr. Potter is quite adept at Defense Against the Dark Arts. He has even helped teach here at Hogwarts."  
  
"I understand," Carrington said. "But, Professor, you do understand what he will be facing. Even for a student who is apparently as proficient as Mr. Potter, he is still only a student. And as I said, there is a student's life at stake. This is a Dark Arts creature he will be facing. I believe my experience may be of benefit here."  
  
"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps it would be best if you accompanied Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley. You should return to your dormitory. Say nothing of this to either the other students or your teachers. We do not wish to create a panic. If it should become known that the Gimlore has escaped its prison, the rumors could be quite disastrous."  
  
"But Professor," Ron pleaded, "Hermione is my friend, too. I want to help her. I can help Harry and Professor Carrington."  
  
"No, Mr. Weasley, you can't," Dumbledore said. "I do not doubt your friendship with Miss Granger. Nor do I doubt your sincere desire to help her. But this is clearly beyond the scope of your abilities at this time. You would only be a hindrance. Believe me, the best way you can help in this situation is to return to your dormitory and say nothing of it."  
  
"Yes, Professor," Ron replied dejectedly.  
  
"Don't worry, Ron," Harry said to his friend. "I'll bring her back safe and sound."  
  
"I hope so," Ron said.  
  
Quietly, Ron stood up and left Dumbledore's quarters. He was not happy being left behind but he also knew that Dumbledore was right. He would just be in the way. And that could be disastrous not only for Hermione but Harry as well.  
  
"Professor," Carrington said after Ron had left, "I believe we should tell Mr. Potter the rest. He has a right to know. Especially considering his scar."  
  
"Perhaps you are right," Dumbledore said. "I always suspected something like this might happen when Mr. Potter came to Hogwarts. I had almost convinced myself that he would graduate without incident. But I was apparently wrong."  
  
'What is it?" Harry asked. "What rest? Is there something about this Gimlore you haven't told me? And what does it have to do with my scar?"  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore said. "What we are going to tell you must be kept in the strictest confidence."  
  
"I understand, Professor," Harry said.  
  
"Professor Carrington," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps it would be best if you told Harry the rest. You were there, after all."  
  
"Yes, Professor," said Carrington.  
  
Harry looked at his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He was getting a very sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
FIVE  
  
"Mr. Potter," Carrington said, "what happened took place some years ago. I had only recently graduated from the Salem Witches Institute. I was still deciding on what my chosen profession was to be. After graduation, I decided to come to Hogwarts and visit a friend of mine. A friend I had made while attending Salem."  
  
"They would write constantly," interjected Dumbledore. "I remember this particular student getting many owls from Professor Carrington during his tenure here."  
  
"What friend?" Harry questioned.  
  
"I'll get to that," Carrington said. "Suffice it to say that this friend and I had much in common. We were each First Boy of our respective schools. We both excelled at Quidditch. And we were both rather adept at the Defense Against the Dark Arts, much like you.  
  
"But there were also differences between us. I was physically larger and stronger than he was. But he seemed to take to the study of magic much better than I did. I've rarely seen such devotion to study as I saw in him. Miss Granger reminds me of him in that respect."  
  
"What has this to do with me?" Harry asked. "And of my scar?"  
  
"As I said," Carrington said, "I had come to visit him after graduation. He had invited me many times but it was considered inappropriate for a student from one school to visit another. Once we had graduated, we were no longer under that restriction. So I came for a visit and we met face to face for the first time."  
  
"In those days," Dumbledore said, "the woods were still forbidden to the students. And all the teachers were made aware of the special forbidden area inhabited by the Gimlore. No one had thought to inform Professor Carrington and his friend of this. It proved to be a very bad oversight."  
  
"I don't understand," Harry said.  
  
"Well," Carrington continued. "The woods were forbidden to students. Technically, we were no longer students. So that restriction didn't apply to us any longer. And we were both very inquisitive. We wanted to know why things were as they are. So we decided to visit the woods for ourselves. See just what dangers lay out there."  
  
"You went into the woods?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes," Carrington said. "We both felt that between us, there wasn't anything we couldn't handle. As I said, we were both rather adept at the Defense Against the Dark Arts. We were newly graduated and felt we were just too powerful to be contended with. Much, I imagine, as many new graduates feel.  
  
"There are things in those woods, Mr. Potter. Things of which you have only dreamed. And many of which you have not. But between my friend and me, most of those creatures let us alone. I suppose they may have sensed our power together. The proximity of two powerful wizards can be very intimidating.  
  
"Then we reached the special forbidden area. The prison of the Gimlore. We sensed the power that imprisoned it and wondered what was so great to warrant the use of such magic. Our curiosity was growing. We decided we must know what lay within this most forbidden of all areas.  
  
"So we entered the special forbidden area. Much to our dismay. We encountered the Gimlore, as you encountered it tonight. The creature we saw was exactly as you described it. And because of my study of its ancient tongue, we were able to speak with it."  
  
"You talked to the Gimlore?" Harry asked.  
  
"Initially, yes," Carrington said. "We didn't know what it was. No one had ever spoken of it to us. It claimed to have been unjustly imprisoned there. That it had committed no offense, broken no laws, harmed no one. It claimed only to be the recipient of an unjust and powerful wizard.  
  
"My friend accepted this without question. I, on the other hand, had certain reservations. I cannot explain why I was so suspicious of it. I only knew that what it said to us did not sound right. That there must be more to it than that."  
  
"What happened?" Harry asked.  
  
"It must have known I was mistrustful of it," Carrington said. "As we turned to leave, it attacked. Its power was far greater than either of us had anticipated. We were greatly outmatched. I felt sure we would perish that night."  
  
"You obviously didn't," Harry said. "How did you escape it?"  
  
"We didn't," Carrington said. "It would have killed us that night. But my friend struck a bargain with it. In exchange for out lives, we were to help it escape its prison. We swore a wizards' oath that we would do all within our power to free it. Only then did it allow us to leave unharmed."  
  
"It's still imprisoned," Harry said. "Are you telling me you broke a wizards' oath?"  
  
"No," Carrington said. "We couldn't do that. The Gimlore knew this. We were bound by that oath. We had to do everything we could to free it, no matter what the cost.  
  
"But we also discovered that the magic needed to free it was substantial. Neither my friend nor I had that kind of power. It was necessary to gather the power necessary to break the magic that held it captive. So we made a pact. We would each search the world over and gather as much magic as we could. When we were finished, we would return to Hogwarts and fulfill our oath. To release the Gimlore from its prison."  
  
"Is that why you came here as the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher?" Harry asked. "To fulfill this promise?"  
  
'No," Dumbledore interjected. "He came at my invitation. We needed a new teacher for the Defense Against the Dark Arts. And Carrington was available. He was one of the most adept in that discipline. I felt the students could learn much from him. So I invited him to come."  
  
"Yes," Carrington said. "By now, my oath to the Gimlore is no longer binding. You see, my friend and I both took the oath. We swore that we would both do what we could to free the Gimlore. But my friend has since died. With his death, our oath was negated. Because of the way the oath was worded, we both had to be present. With his death, the oath could never be fulfilled."  
  
"I see," said Harry. "But why take Hermione? And why come for me if that's what it's after? You said this all happened shortly after you graduated. I wasn't even born then. I don't think either of my parents was either. Why would it want me?"  
  
"Because of your scar," Carrington said. "You see, because of you, that oath cannot be fulfilled. I believe I know why the Gimlore wants you to come to it. In the school, its power would be only a fraction of what it truly is. In the forbidden area of the woods, it would be at full strength. I believe it will need that strength to deal with you."  
  
"Me?" Harry questioned. "How could my scar have anything to do with this?"  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore said, "Professor Carrington knows how you got your scar. He also knows who gave it to you. And what happened to him when you got it."  
  
"Yes," Carrington said. "You see, Mr. Potter, the friend I spoke of eventually turned to dark magic to fulfill our oath. It is the reason your parents were murdered and why you were nearly murdered. For the magic you possess. You see, the death of my friend is partially your responsibility, although not of your doing. His name was Voldemort. The same wizard who killed your parents and tried to kill you."  
  
Harry just stared at Carrington in surprise. He had never known why Voldemort had attacked his parents. Or why he had tried to kill Harry. He only knew that his mothers' love for him had protected him. Causing the attack Voldemort had made to rebound back onto the Dark Wizard, striking him down and giving Harry the scar he now wore.  
  
"So the Gimlore blames me for still being imprisoned," Harry said finally. "It thinks I'm the reason you can't fulfill your oath."  
  
"Yes," Carrington said. "If not for you, Voldemort would have gotten the power he needed to counter that used to imprison it. And it took Miss Granger because it knows you will come to save her. I believe it plans to take its revenge on you, Mr. Potter. To punish you for what it perceives your interference in its plans to free itself."  
  
Harry couldn't speak. All he could do was stare at Dumbledore and Carrington in shock and disbelief.  
  
SIX  
  
Harry and Carrington had just entered the forest. Harry gripped his wand tightly. Each time he had ventured into the forest, he had been luck y to escape with his life. He couldn't understand why anyone would enter it unless absolutely necessary.  
  
"Professor," Harry whispered as they walked deeper into the woods, "I still don't understand why this Gimlore took Hermione instead of me. Even at the school it was incredibly powerful. I don't think I could have resisted it any more than Hermione was able to."  
  
"As I said," Carrington said, looking around, "its power would have been only a fraction of what it will have in its' prison. It would not wish to waste any of that power. It counted on you being too startled and fearful of harming Miss Granger to attack it thus allowing it to get away. But do not be fooled, Mr. Potter. This is perhaps the most dangerous creature you are likely to meet. You must be on your guard every minute."  
  
"Will it let Hermione go when I get there?" Harry asked.  
  
"I don't know," Carrington said. "It has no reason to harm her. But a creature of the Dark Arts can never truly be trusted. It may try to harm her out of spite. But don't worry yourself. We will do all within our power to return her safely."  
  
"It's not fair," Harry said. "She shouldn't be put in danger because of me. She's always in danger because of me."  
  
"Welcome to life, Mr. Potter," Carrington said. "Few things in life are fair. It is what I have been attempting to teach you students these past weeks. As I told you that first day, what I teach you is perhaps some of the most important lessons you will learn in your lives. You are about to learn firsthand just how important those lessons are."  
  
Harry didn't say anything. Carrington kept looking around as if he expected at any moment to be attacked from the dark shadows of the forest. But the creatures that inhabited the forbidden woods remained suspiciously at bay. Suddenly, Harry wondered if the Gimlore might have a hand in that. Controlling the creatures somehow.  
  
The thought made Harry nervous. If the Gimlore could control the creatures of this forest to that extent, its power must be incredible. He had no idea how they would free Hermione once they reached the Gimlore's prison. If it had the power to control the creatures of the forest, he didn't see how any wizard could stand up to it.  
  
Still, he had little choice. Hermione was his friend. He had faced danger before. But not like this. Not with the life of another person hanging in the balance. Before, it had always been his life at stake. If he made a mistake, he would have been the one to pay for it.  
  
But this time Hermione's life hung in the balance. Any mistake or misjudgment could prove disastrous, even fatal. He didn't know how he would live with himself if that should happen. Assuming he did survive the night. And the more he learned, the more it appeared that he might be living his last few minutes on Earth. The Gimlore appeared to be unstoppable. He was suddenly glad that Professor Carrington had come along. With him at least maybe they stood a chance.  
  
Harry didn't know how long they had walked. It felt as if they had been walking all night. But the foliage overhead obscured the sky. He had no way of knowing how much time had passed since leaving Dumbledore's quarters. Suddenly, Carrington stopped and stared directly ahead.  
  
"There it is," he said quietly. "The prison area for the Gimlore. Take care, young wizard. The Gimlore is only one of the dangers we may face in there. There may be others."  
  
"How do we get in there?" Harry asked. "Past the enchantments?"  
  
"We simply walk in," Carrington said. "The enchantments are designed to prevent the Gimlore from leaving not from allowing others to enter. Do not leave the path under any circumstances. If you do, you will be lost."  
  
"I understand," Harry said.  
  
"Very good, Mr. Potter," Carrington said.  
  
"Professor," said Harry after a while, "I don't understand something."  
  
"What's that?" Carrington asked.  
  
"Well," said Harry, "Voldemort's body has been restored. He's alive again. Why does this Gimlore still hate me so much? Couldn't you just keep your promise and free it?"  
  
"Were that it was that simple," Carrington said. "Unfortunately, Voldemort has no intention of releasing the Gimlore. And the wizards' oath we took was only binding until death. Even though he's alive again, he did die. Technically, anyway. So the oath no longer holds him. He's free to do as he wishes. It's one of the reasons, I believe, that the Gimlore hates you so. Indirectly, you have allowed Voldemort to escape his oath."  
  
Silently they moved forward. Harry said a silent prayer for Hermione. And for himself. As they entered the forbidden area, he suddenly thought how Dudley didn't seem quite so bad. At least Dudley had never kidnapped any of his friends. Or wanted Harry dead for something Harry had no control over.  
  
They continued on the path for a while longer. Harry was careful to remain directly behind Carrington. This portion of the forest seemed even darker and more foreboding than the rest. As if some great evil permeated even the very air. The trees and other plants around Harry seemed to be misshapen, twisted things. Twisted from the evil that resided in this place.  
  
"There," Carrington whispered, pointing to a clearing directly ahead. "She will be there. So will the Gimlore. We're being watched even now. Creatures that serve the Gimlore. Creatures of evil that serve only those stronger than themselves. Be extra mindful, Mr. Potter. Those creatures will strike you down without a moments hesitation."  
  
Harry just nodded. He had never been so frightened in his life. Not just for himself, but for Hermione and Carrington as well. Both of them were hapless pawns in this venture. Sucked into it by a force that appeared to be greater than all of them. Almost timidly, Harry followed Carrington toward the clearing where the Gimlore awaited them.  
  
Harry was getting more apprehensive the closer they got. Although they could see the clearing, they could see nothing in it. What if Hermione wasn't there? What if the Gimlore had already...?  
  
"Now," Carrington said suddenly, turning to Harry, "the Gimlore will want to savor its victory over you. That may give us some time to free Miss Granger. There is a heavy burden on your shoulders, Harry. You have to distract the Gimlore while I free Miss Granger. It will be very dangerous. Do you think you can handle it?"  
  
Harry hesitated a moment. Any mistake could spell doom for them all.  
  
"I'll do my best, Professor," Harry said finally.  
  
"Good," Carrington said. "Once we enter the clearing, the Gimlore will center its attention on you. I'll have to gauge my timing perfectly. Once we've freed Miss Granger, run as quickly as you can back to Hogwarts. Stop for nothing. Once there, you will be safe."  
  
"What do we do about the Gimlore then?" asked Harry. "Won't it just come after me again? The magic holding it must be weakening if it can leave this prison. Aren't we still in danger?"  
  
"That is what the Headmaster is working on," Carrington said. "He's going to try to restore the magic holding the Gimlore. But we must give him the time he needs to do that. Are you ready?"  
  
"I guess so," Harry said.  
  
"Good," Carrington said.  
  
Harry followed Carrington into the clearing. As they entered the clearing, Harry suddenly saw Hermione on the opposite side. She was tied to a tree and appeared to be unconscious. But even from this distance, Harry could tell she was still breathing. Which meant she was still alive. At least for the moment.  
  
"Carrington," hissed a voice from across the clearing.  
  
Harry watched as the Gimlore glided into the clearing from the forest behind Hermione. It looked exactly as it had in the school. Carrington stiffened as the creature approached. It stopped several yards short of the two wizards and stood staring at them.  
  
"Gimlore," Carrington said. "The girl is not involved in this. Let her go. She has done you no harm."  
  
"She is his friend," the Gimlore said, looking at Harry. "The interloper who broke your bond to me. The magic grows weak but still I am imprisoned here. I will use his magic to finally break the binds that hold me. Then I shall have my revenge on those who imprisoned me."  
  
"He is only a boy," Carrington said, slowly moving to the left. "His power is still new. It will grow. Allow him to take the girl from here. We can make a new oath. To return when his power is greater. To free you from your prison."  
  
"Would you do that, boy?" the Gimlore said, turning to Harry. "Would you take a wizards' oath to free me from my prison?"  
  
"Y....yes," stammered Harry. "Just let Hermione go. She hasn't done anything."  
  
The Gimlore howled with an evil laughter.  
  
"You take me for a fool," it said. "A wizards' oath is not binding on a student. Until he has matured, he is not a wizard. Only a student."  
  
"No," Harry said, trying to keep the Gimlore's attention. "I'll take whatever oath you want. I just want to get Hermione out of here safely. Just tell me what you want me to do."  
  
Harry gripped his wand tightly as he watched Carrington out of the corner of his eye. The wizard was slowly making his way around behind the Gimlore. Moving toward Hermione. Harry had no idea what he was going to do, but he had to keep the Gimlore's attention.  
  
"What do you want me to do?" asked Harry, stepping over so the Gimlore had to turn its back on Carrington. "What oath do you want me to swear? Just tell me. Whatever oath it is, I'll take it."  
  
"You think me to be swayed by the prattling of a child?" the Gimlore asked. "You seek to trick me. To free the girl and forsake your words once you have left here. I will not be swayed. I will have my freedom and my revenge. And all will lament the day of my imprisonment."  
  
Suddenly the Gimlore turned to face Carrington. Anger flashed in its eyes.  
  
"You cannot fool me," the Gimlore said to Carrington. "I know of your intentions. Of your trickery. But you will not be successful this night. I will have my revenge and you shall pay for your betrayal of me."  
  
The Gimlore raised one of its tentacles and a bolt of lightning shot out, striking Carrington in the chest. Carrington was raised from the ground and cast nearly twenty feet back. He fell to the ground with a resounding "thud". He raised himself shaking his head.  
  
Harry could see Carrington's broken wand lying several feet away. Without his wand, Carrington would be defenseless against the Gimlore. And Harry knew he didn't possess the power or the control to defeat the creature.  
  
"Now, young would be wizard," the Gimlore said, "learn what happens to those who would betray me."  
  
The Gimlore began to move toward Professor Carrington.  
  
SEVEN  
  
"No," screamed Harry moving up to the Gimlore. "I'm the one you want. Leave them alone."  
  
"He betrayed me," the Gimlore said. "He must be punished for his betrayal."  
  
"What about your revenge on me?" Harry asked trying to buy Carrington some time. "Have you forgotten that? Remember, I prevented you from escaping your prison. Voldemort died because of me, not Professor Carrington."  
  
"Yes," the Gimlore said, turning toward Harry. "Because of you, this accursed barrier prevents me from leaving. I must have my escape."  
  
"Professor," Harry called out, "take Hermione and get her out of here. I'll keep the Gimlore busy so it can't stop you."  
  
"Harry, you aren't strong enough," pleaded Carrington.  
  
"Go on," Harry said. "Get out of here. Just make sure the Gimlore is never able to escape again."  
  
"So, you seek to save your friends," the Gimlore said, starting to turn back to Carrington. "I cannot allow that."  
  
"Hey," screamed Harry, "remember me? The key to your escape?"  
  
The Gimlore looked at Harry, and then back at Carrington. It appeared to be hesitating. It wanted to escape its prison. But it also wanted to punish the man who had betrayed it. For a moment, Harry thought it might again turn back to Professor Carrington.  
  
"Come on," called Harry, turning and running to the far end of the clearing. "If I get away, you'll be stuck here forever. Is that what you want? To be trapped here with no means of escape?"  
  
The Gimlore looked at Harry again, anger and hatred showing in its face. It glanced back at Carrington. Still undecided, Harry knew that Hermione and Carrington were still in danger.  
  
"Here," called Harry.  
  
As the creature turned to face Harry, he held up his wand and threw it as far as he could away from him. It flew into the forest and disappeared into the darkness beyond.  
  
"Now's your chance," called Harry. "Without my wand, I'm defenseless. You can finally be free of this place forever."  
  
"Harry, no," cried Carrington.  
  
"Get Hermione out of here, Professor," called Harry. "I'll keep the Gimlore busy. Get her to safety while you can."  
  
The Gimlore turned on Harry. It moved with blinding speed toward the young student intent on having its freedom. Harry moved to avoid the creature. As he fought valiantly to avoid it he saw Carrington cut Hermione free from the tree. Carrington scooped her up and turned toward the forest. Suddenly the Gimlore stopped and turned back to Carrington.  
  
"My revenge," the Gimlore howled. "I must have my revenge."  
  
"No," Harry screamed. "It's me you want. Your freedom, remember? Without me you'll never have your freedom."  
  
The Gimlore was ignoring Harry. It began to move toward Carrington and Hermione.  
  
"No," cried Harry.  
  
He ran up and jumped on the Gimlore's back. With all his strength he wrapped his arms around its neck and held on for dear life. The Gimlore reached up with its tentacles and wrenched Harry free.  
  
"Now," the Gimlore said, Carrington and Hermione all but forgotten, "I shall be free of my prison."  
  
Harry braced himself for the attack he knew must come. Suddenly the Gimlore reached out with its magic and Harry lost consciousness.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying in the clearing. He sat up and looked around. Sitting next to him was Professor Carrington. On the opposite end of the clearing stood the Gimlore.  
  
"Professor," Harry said, rising suddenly.  
  
"Relax, Harry," Carrington said. "We are in no danger. In truth, we never were."  
  
"I don't understand," Harry said. "Where's Hermione?"  
  
"She's safe," Carrington said. "She's back at Hogwarts by now. She will be fine. She wasn't harmed. She was only unconscious."  
  
"What's going on?" Harry asked.  
  
"The transformation," Carrington said. "Just watch.  
  
As the two watched, the Gimlore became enveloped in magic. The magic began to glow and was soon so bright Harry had to turn away. Within moments the light had subsided. Where the Gimlore had stood was a creature that appeared to be made of pure light. It floated lazily in the air.  
  
Harry could only stare at the creature in awe. It looked exactly as he imagined an angel must look. The light it emitted was intense but it didn't hurt Harry's eyes. And he could sense something from it. A kind of peace and serenity he had never experienced before.  
  
"It's beautiful," Harry exclaimed.  
  
"Because of you," said a voice in Harry's mind. The voice was light and melodic, as if it was some form of beautiful music. "You have allowed me to once again become the protector and guardian for yourself and your fellow students. And many students yet to come to the academy."  
  
"I don't understand," Harry said, turning to Carrington. "What was all that about the Gimlore? What about it abducting Hermione? It's attack on you? I thought I was going to die."  
  
"I'm afraid we weren't totally honest with you, Harry," Carrington said. "The Gimlore is a fictitious creature. Created centuries ago to prevent the curious from disturbing the Gleeson. Its role here is very important. And because of you, it can continue to perform its duty for many years to come."  
  
"Me?" Harry asked. "How? Why?"  
  
"You were willing to sacrifice yourself for your friends," said the voice in Harry's mind. "That was the final test. To make sure you are the one who was needed. I thank you."  
  
"I'm still confused," Harry said.  
  
"I'll try to explain," Carrington said. "Not even the Glesson can tell where it came from. What is known is that millennia ago it took up residence in these woods. It is one of the reasons that Hogwarts was chosen to be located here. It protects Hogwarts with its considerable magic."  
  
"I thought that's what the teachers did?" Harry asked.  
  
"Partially," said Carrington. "But the Gleeson uses its magic to protect the academy from other things. Things you have yet to learn about. Suffice it to say that without the Gleeson, Hogwarts would be unprotected against some very formidable adversaries."  
  
"Is that all it does?" Harry asked.  
  
"No," Carrington said smiling. "Much of the magic you encounter at the academy is sustained by the Gleeson. The Gleeson performs the winding stairs, the moving staircases, and the decorations during your meals, much of this. It frees up the teachers to do other things that demand their attentions from day to day."  
  
"I never knew that," Harry said.  
  
"None of the students do," Carrington said. "The teachers do, of course. Well, much of it. Not all. There is some of it that only a select few know. And there are reasons for that."  
  
"What reasons?" Harry asked.  
  
"You know the attacks the Gimlore made on me?" Carrington asked. "Aren't you just the least bit curious that I don't exhibit any apparent injuries from those attacks?"  
  
Harry took a closer look at Carrington. There had been a cut over his eye. And the pounding he had taken should have produced at least some bruising, perhaps even some broken bones. Looking at him now, Harry noticed that not even his hair was mussed.  
  
"How did you survive those attacks with no injuries?" Harry asked.  
  
"I attacked no one," the voice inside his mind said. "I would never attack one who has safeguarded my secret for so many years. Carrington has been a trusted friend."  
  
"Okay, this is really getting confusing," said Harry. "I saw the Gimlore attack you. Your wand was broken. Hermione was tied to that tree."  
  
"I was never attacked," Carrington said. "It was all an illusion. Miss Granger was tied to the tree. But the attacks on me were pure illusion. You see, Harry, the Gleeson's power to protect Hogwarts is considerable. But its power to protect itself is very limited. To protect itself, it can only use illusion."  
  
"That's incredible," Harry said. "If anyone knew that it could only use illusion to protect itself...."  
  
"Now you know why no one must know of it," Carrington said. "Not even the teachers at Hogwarts know this secret. And neither do the students, of course. If it should get out that the Gleeson's only protection for itself was illusion, there are many creatures that would descend upon it to destroy it. And without the Gleeson, Hogwarts could be defenseless.  
  
"There's more. Even with all its incredible power, even the Gleeson must eventually pass. All things do. It is the nature of the world. But the Gleeson can pass on its power to another of its incarnations. Something like the Phoenix rising from its own ashes. Every eight hundred years, the Gleeson 'dies' only to be reborn anew."  
  
"Is that why it wanted me?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yes," Carrington said. "Your youth and power will sustain the Gleeson for centuries to come. While you were unconscious, it joined with you. It took into itself your youth and power. Oh, it will have no affect on you. None at all. You will feel absolutely nothing from that joining.  
  
"But you had to give it willingly. It's not something that can be forced from you. Without it, the Gleeson cannot rise again. The final test was when you offered yourself in place of Miss Granger and me. Your willingness to sacrifice yourself proved that you were the one the Gleeson needed to be reborn."  
  
"Why not just ask me?" Harry asked. "If I had known all this, I would have agreed. Just ask Professor Dumbledore. I'd do whatever I needed to do to help."  
  
"It's not that easy," Carrington said. "Simply being willing is only part of it. It would have provided the Gleeson with the necessary physical energy it needed to be reborn. But there is more to it than just physically being reborn."  
  
"Emotional rebirth," Harry said, suddenly realizing what Carrington meant.  
  
"Yes," Carrington said. "The emotional aspect of the Gleeson must be reborn as well. That is not something you can just call up. You can't just turn it off and on like a light switch. Without this emotional rebirth, the Gleeson would simply be a powerful creature. With no emotional awareness. This would make it a very dangerous creature. It would care nothing for life."  
  
"So my concern for you and Hermione," Harry started.  
  
"Has allowed the Gleeson to be reborn emotionally as well as physically," Carrington said. "Your care and concern for Miss Granger and me have been passed on to the Gleeson when it was reborn. It has taken that awareness through the transformation."  
  
"I thank you, young wizard," said the voice in his mind. "Generations of students yet to come will be safe because of your concern."  
  
Harry and Carrington watched as the Gleeson suddenly began to fade from sight. Within seconds, the two wizards were left alone in the clearing.  
  
"So it's gone back to wherever it lives?" Harry asked.  
  
"It lives here," Carrington said. "Most of the time, it cannot be seen. Only on rare occasions does it manifest itself. I'm sure you can understand why."  
  
"Yes, I can," said Harry. "So that story you and Professor Dumbledore told me? About you encountering the Gimlore after you had graduated? That was all made up?"  
  
"Not quite," Carrington said.  
  
"A necessary fabrication," said a voice from the darkness of the forest. "Something that was unavoidable, I'm afraid. I do regret putting you through this, Harry. But as I'm sure you understand, it was totally necessary."  
  
Carrington simply smiled as Harry looked on in total surprise as Dumbledore came walking out of the forest.  
  
EIGHT  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, starting to stand up.  
  
"Don't get up, Harry," Dumbledore said, taking a seat next to him. "The story Lucien and I told you is true. To a degree."  
  
"To a degree?" Harry asked.  
  
"Well," Carrington said, "the part about a Hogwarts student and me being friends was quite true. And we did come into the forest out of curiosity. Everything we told you up to that point was quite true."  
  
"But your encounter with the Gimlore?" Harry asked.  
  
"As you know," Dumbledore said, "the Gimlore does not really exist. So they could not have encountered it. It was the Gleeson they encountered."  
  
"It knew its time was growing short," Carrington said. "It also knew that my friend and I weren't the ones it needed. But it needed help to sustain itself. Its power was beginning to diminish even then. And somehow it knew you would be coming. That's why it appeared to us."  
  
"The other student," Harry said. "What happened to him?"  
  
"He's still here," Carrington said, looking around. "In a manner of speaking. He chose to voluntarily join with the Gleeson. To help augment its power to sustain it until you could come."  
  
"That's where the rumor came from," Harry said. "That you had caused the death of another student."  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "We could hardly tell anyone the truth. So we told them nothing. Only that the student had moved on. Which, from a particular point of view, is true."  
  
"I have not regretted it," Carrington said, smiling. "He was a good friend. And very caring. He will outlive all of us. As long as the Gleeson exists, he will exist."  
  
"What about Voldemort?" Harry asked. "And my scar? You said it was because of these that the Gimlore chose me."  
  
"I'm afraid that was fabrication," Dumbledore said. "It was necessary to make you believe that the Gimlore was after you specifically. To rouse the feelings of care and protectiveness in you. Lucien graduated from the Salem Witches Institute many years before Voldemort attended Hogwarts. So they could hardly have been friends."  
  
"When Albus told me about Voldemort," Carrington said, "I decided it was tailor made for the situation. He agreed. So we fabricated the story about Voldemort and your scar to draw you in."  
  
"Pretty clever," Harry said. "Is there anything else I need to know?"  
  
"Not really," Carrington said. "Only that what happened here must remain in the strictest confidence. No one, not even your closest friends or family members can know what happened here."  
  
"I understand," Harry said. "My friends will understand. As for my family, they don't even like mentioning that I'm a wizard let alone talking about it. They're muggles. What goes on here doesn't concern them."  
  
"As it is with most muggles," Carrington said.  
  
"Speaking of which, Professor," Harry said, "Hermione has been working particularly hard since you came here. I was wondering if you could be a little easier on her. She's wearing herself out."  
  
"And the work will pay off," Carrington said. "As I told you the first day of class, you rarely get a second chance in life. And almost never against the Dark Arts. If you learn nothing else in my class this year, I intend to make sure you learn that."  
  
"I understand, Professor," Harry said "I'll do my best."  
  
"As you always have, Harry," Dumbledore said. "It's time we were getting back to the school. The sun will be up soon. And you do have class in the morning."  
  
Smiling, Harry, Dumbledore, and Carrington stood up and head back to Hogwarts.  
  
* * *  
  
"Harry, are you okay?" Ron asked as the three entered the school  
  
Hermione was with him. She didn't seem to have suffered any ill effects. She smiled at Harry as she walked up to him.  
  
"Thanks, Harry," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Ron told me what you did. Coming out to save me and all. That was very brave of you."  
  
"There was nothing else I could do," Harry said, glancing at Dumbledore and Carrington. "You're my friend and you were in trouble."  
  
"Thanks all the same," Hermione said.  
  
"Well, I must be getting back to bed," Dumbledore said. "I shall leave you in the very capable hands of Professor Carrington. I suggest you all get back to your dormitory straight away. Classes come very early around here."  
  
"We will, Professor," Harry said. "Thanks. For everything."  
  
Dumbledore smiled and then turned and disappeared up the hallway.  
  
"Well, Miss Granger," Carrington said, "you seem to have recovered from your ordeal.  
  
"Yes," Hermione said. "The nurse said I wasn't hurt bad. She said I could go back to class in the morning."  
  
"Very good," Carrington said. "And you do have a paper due, as I recall."  
  
"Are you kidding?" Hermione asked. "After what we just went through? I thought you'd at least give us a couple of days to rest up from it."  
  
"As I'm sure I explained," Carrington said, "I rarely give second chances. I don't see that this little ordeal should affect your turning in your papers on time. You have had ample time to prepare them, after all."  
  
"Well, well, well," said Malfoy, walking up to the small group. "Looks like you're in trouble again. Can't say I'm surprised. You three are always getting in trouble. Didn't I tell you, Professor? Rabble-rousers the lot of them. Just as I said."  
  
"I remember," Carrington said. "And if I recall, Mr. Malfoy, I told you then that I disliked tattletales. Ten points from Slytherin for not listening to your teacher."  
  
"That's not fair," protested Malfoy.  
  
"And another ten points for whining," Carrington said. "As you will learn, in life whining is rarely acceptable. Especially from adults. Just for your edification, these three are in no trouble. In fact, they have been quite helpful this evening. Nothing they are at liberty to discuss, however, so I suggest you don't try to pry it out of them. They are all under strict instructions not to say anything."  
  
"Okay," Malfoy said dejectedly.  
  
"Well, I should get to my report," Hermione said. "I lost it when that.... earlier this evening. I'll have to rewrite the entire thing."  
  
"Then I suggest you get to it," Carrington said.  
  
"Mine's already done," Malfoy gloated. "I'm not surprised you haven't got yours done. And lost it to boot. Just what I'd expect."  
  
"From a Muggle born, you mean," Hermione said, glaring at Malfoy.  
  
Malfoy just smiled at her. Carrington looked at Hermione, and then at Malfoy. Suddenly, a smile crossed his face.  
  
"Not to worry, Miss Granger," Carrington finally said. "Your work to date reminds me much of my own when I was your age."  
  
"You, professor?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Yes," Carrington responded. "I see much of myself in you. I believe you have a very bright future ahead of you."  
  
"For a Muggle born, you mean," Hermione said, looking at the floor.  
  
"In that," Carrington said smiling, "we have something else in common."  
  
"You?" Harry asked. "We thought you were a pureblood."  
  
"Me?" Carrington questioned. "Far from it. Before me, there were no wizards or witches anywhere in my family. I was the first."  
  
"You?" Malfoy practically shrieked. "You mean you're a m...."  
  
He cut himself off before he could finish the statement.  
  
"A muddblood, Mr. Malfoy?" Carrington asked bending over to look Malfoy directly in the boys eyes. "Yes, I am. And it's a term I wear with great pride. Something I would suggest you remember during my stay here."  
  
"Y.... yes, sir," Malfoy stammered.  
  
In near shock, he turned and hurried away from the four as fast as he could move.  
  
"I don't get it," Ron said. "You're a Muggle born? Why are you so hard on them in class? I'd think that you, if anyone, would understand what they go through."  
  
"I do," Carrington said. "And it is why I am so hard on them. Hermione, you will learn that it isn't just here at Hogwarts that you will be at a disadvantage because of the happenstance of your birth. As Muggle born, we have to be twice as good as anyone else just to be considered an equal. You will also find this true in many aspects of your life, not just in magic.  
  
"So I press you harder than I do the rest. You wouldn't be here if you didn't have the necessary potential to be truly outstanding. It is my hope to bring out that potential in you. If you can perform well in my class, you will have no problem with any aspect of you life in the future."  
  
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said. "I just thought you didn't like us because we were Muggle born."  
  
"Hardly," Carrington said. "I have very high hopes for you. And I have no doubt you will justify those hopes. Now, you should be returning to your dormitories. As Professor Dumbledore said, class comes quite early. And I expect all three of you to be prompt."  
  
The three friends turned and headed for their rooms. Somehow, the Defense Against the Dark Arts class wasn't going to be their least favorite class any longer.  
  
The End 


End file.
